Crumble
by LegendsofLit
Summary: Annabeth can't hide from feelings forever, but she can sure as Hades try to. / And she'll do it well. Annabeth-centric. ONE-SHOT. :in second person: Made to song "Here is a Heart" by Jenny Owen Youngs.


Summary: Annabeth can't hide from feelings forever, but she can sure as Hades try to. / And she'll do it well. Annabeth-centric. ONE-SHOT. :in second person:

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><p><em>by EleosEmily_

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><p><em>Blood of my blood, dripping with love<br>I bring you a thing you need most_

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><p>You don't remember falling to the ground,<br>but there you are, lying upon it anyway. It  
>feels rocky and hard and painful and yet<br>you don't—or _can't_—bring yourself to get  
>up. You feel weak, in a way, and utterly<br>powerless.

You don't want to stand up. You don't  
>want to move. You don't. You really,<br>really _don't. _This feeling is unwelcome  
>and makes you hurt inside and all you<br>want is it _gone._

You want it to be gone like him, gone like  
>how the pranks Travis and Connor used<br>to play are gone and how Nico is gone  
>and how everyone else who used to love<br>him is gone. Except you actually don't.  
>You really, really <em>don't.<em>

You want to hate him, because he left.  
>You want to hate him because he was<br>_heroic_ and he told you to go because he  
>knew he was going to die. You want to<br>hate him because he was always a little  
>too oblivious and a little too caring. But<br>you don't hate him, and you think you  
>might just like it a little better that way.<p>

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><p><em>Silent between<br>supplies and machines_

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><p>"You—you can't burn his <em>shroud!<em>" you  
>sputter angrily and perhaps just a little<br>foolishly. "It's not like he's _dead_, right—?"  
>The words die on your lips suddenly, and<br>you hold in a dry sob.

"I know it sounds stupid," you tell Chiron,  
>"but he's not dead. He can't be. The gods<br>would know! They would!" You bring out  
>points about him being the <em>prophecy<br>child _and all that, but soon after, you  
>start wondering if he really is dead.<p>

Because Percy Jackson doesn't just  
>disappear, he doesn't. Percy disappearing<br>is like an extremely nice Clarisse, or an  
>ugly Aphrodite. It just doesn't happen.<p>

However, you can't help thinking; wouldn't  
>people who have <em>really, very close friends<em>  
>know whether their other <em>really, very close<br>friend_ is dead or not, like a gut feeling?  
>Wouldn't they? <em>Shouldn't<em> they?

Chiron sees the cogs and gears in your head  
>moving about. He sees your brain working and<br>processing and calculating. He sees it all. He  
>knows it all. He still says nothing.<p>

He only looks at you for an intense moment and  
>then shakes his head with a small smile on his<br>face that he can't seem to hold back.  
>"Oh, Annabeth," he says with a sigh<br>that seems to have too many emotions in it  
>for you to read. "I'm sorry."<p>

You almost ask "what for?" but hold it in at the  
>last moment, because you aren't sure if you want<br>to know. You aren't sure if you want to be eager  
>for information, you aren't certain that, in this<br>situation, you really want to know everything.

You nod weakly and leave his office, the sun  
>hurting your eyes, the absence of laughter in<br>camp deepening your frown.

You start to wonder how much knowledge you  
>can handle before you can't take it anymore,<br>because you already feel close to the breaking  
>point and yet you think you know next to nothing.<p>

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><p><em>I hang in the corners like a ghost,<em>  
><em>you know I live to be seen through<em>

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><p>You don't remember starting to cry, but there<br>you are anyway, sitting on your bed, sobbing.  
>You don't—or <em>can't<em>—get up. You don't pull  
>yourself together or brush away the wetness<br>that is gathered on your eyelids. You feel stupid  
>and sorry and horrible.<p>

You don't want to sit up, like your half-sister is  
>telling you to do. You don't want to "calm yourself,<br>woman!" like Travis says jokingly. You really, really  
><em>don't.<em> These emotions are uwanted and unneeded  
>and you can't help but think that you don't need this<br>right now.

You don't need this because you have a million other  
>problems, you don't need this because there is a war<br>going on and you have people to take care of because  
>no one else will. You don't need this because you don't<br>have any power in you left to fight and you don't have  
>any willpower left to be stubborn. You just really don't<br>need this, except a part of you thinks you do, because  
>you deserve a little bit of suffering for letting him sacrifice<br>himself for you.

You want to be able to tell yourself that you _really_ don't  
>need this but you won't because he was a hero and you can't<br>help but feeling you let him down by surviving. You can't  
>say it because he's dead and you are alive and you miss<br>him more than friends should miss _just friends._ You really  
>want to say that you don't need this but you won't because<br>hating yourself is a lot easier than mourning him.

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><p><em>Here is a heart, here is a heart<br>I made it for you, so take it._

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><p><strong>I know the formatting's weird, but I kind of like it. And yeah, I know my music taste is weird.<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed my writing. As you've seen the others' oneshots (or perhaps not) you might see we all have different writing styles.**

**So this shot is another way to delve into the mystery that is "Do as They Do," but I wouldn't expect many of them to come rapidly, I think this is the new-account jitters. Plus, these are easier to write than actual chapters.**

**By the way, the normal chapters won't have different formats or points of view, they will stay consistent.**

**A special thank you to the people who visited from my story "Who am I?", if any. **


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